Inner Musings of a Wayward Writer

Fiction: ‘Life’

The sun lights up every drop of rain that plummets down to the earth. Clouds drift apart and reform. The smell is lovely as the rain evaporates under the sun from the ocean of hills before me. A thousand hills and each one is different. A million trees, each as unique as a person. A billion creatures thrumming with life.

Their presence fills the air.

Their existence gives energy to the hills.

Even when I’m alone, I never really feel alone. How can I? Everywhere, there is life. It’s in the trees, sprouting new leaves as the Earth begins to tilt a different hemisphere towards the sun. It’s in the birds that soar above us. It’s in the fast-growing mushrooms that spring up from the pine needles which litter the forest floor. It’s in the fish that race down the rivers. It’s in the translucent wings of dragonflies as they cut through the still air, and in the claws that scrape and burrow deep down into the soil.

No one is ever truly alone.

Not on this planet.

Perhaps even the void of space really isn’t a void at all. Maybe dark energy is the result of another lifeform so different, so foreign, so incomprehensible to us that we don’t even know how to detect it. That void could be filled with all the components necessary for life. Life that is vastly different from ours. Maybe the forces that drive the universe, form galaxies and push them away from one another at ever-increasing speeds, are nothing more than an avalanche caused by the beating of dragonfly wings.

Everything is connected.

From the single-celled organisms that first appeared in the primordial soup during the planet’s formative years, to the most advanced creatures detailed in Darwin’s Origin of Species.